by Ella Frank
He nodded. “Yes. Are you…I mean, can you love someone?”
Isadora crossed back to him and crouched down so they were eye to eye. “Are you asking for Elias’s sake or for your own?”
Paris frowned, and she reached out to run her thumb down his forehead, smoothing out his furrowed brow.
“You want to know if Thanos is capable?”
Paris’s eyes widened at her deduction. “No.”
“Yes,” she said with a sad smile. “You are sweet, Paris Antoniou. Everything you feel is right there for me to see and hear. But you need to stop. Do not think on Thanos any longer, or you will wind up buried in the ground quicker than you can blink. He is not for you. And your brand of sweetness and naivety is going to get you killed.”
“By you?”
She trailed her fingers down his cheek and then straightened to her full height. “No.”
“Then by who?”
“Someone who has always wanted what you now do.”
Paris thought of Thanos’s piercing eyes and the way the vampire had held him while he’d shared his past, and as a chill swept across his body, Paris rubbed at his arms and asked, “And who is that?”
She looked about to answer, when someone—poof—just up and appeared between the two of them. Paris could only see the broad back of him, but the hood and width of the male’s shoulders told him exactly who had just joined them in the room: Thanos. And he was carrying someone.
“Shit, Thanos,” Isadora said, confirming Paris’s suspicions. But then she shrank away from him as though she were seeing a stranger.
Paris tried to look around Thanos’s shoulder to see who he was holding, but he didn’t need to, because Thanos then knelt down and placed the body upon the ground.
Paris could see Isadora’s hand over her mouth as she stared down at the two upon the rug, and then she seemed to catch herself and ask, “What have you done?”
One thing Paris would never get used to was the speed at which these vampires could move. No sooner had the words left Isadora’s mouth than Thanos was up and stepping over the body, crowding her back toward the seat she’d been sitting in earlier.
When the back of her legs hit the throne and she fell down into it, Thanos placed an arm on either side of the hulking chair and leaned down over her, and Paris could see a look of utter terror on her face.
“What have I done?” Thanos asked. “I think if anyone should be asking such a question, it is I.”
Isadora narrowed her eyes and asked, “What is wrong with you? Why are you so angry?”
“You betrayed me, Isa.”
“Wh…what?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had been letting that filth lie between your thighs? Between Diomêdês’s?”
Oh shit, Paris thought as Thanos grabbed one of Isadora’s wrists and yanked her forward on the seat, causing her to cry out.
“You are a traitor,” Thanos said, and the tone was so icy that Paris swore the room temperature dropped to below freezing.
“You spoke to Elias,” Isadora said.
“Traitor,” Thanos said again, and this time Paris heard the distinct sound of bone cracking.
“Cousin…Thanos,” she said. “Let me explain.”
Paris’s heart raced as Thanos loomed over the female who, against all reason, had been nothing but kind to him. He wasn’t sure how close family ties were in this society, but he didn’t really feel like finding out by watching Thanos kill her in front of him. So Paris slowly crept forward, giving the body on the floor a wide berth as he kept his eyes on it—just in case it, you know, moved.
“Things have changed since this all began,” she said. “Elias is sorry for what he did. He has been helping—”
“Helping,” Thanos said. “How is he helping? By fucking you? Save your speeches, Isadora. That male who is helping you has destroyed me and mine. He tortured you and did what you are finding so difficult to look at to me. So forgive me if I do not wish to hear your explanations.”
As the fury rolled off Thanos, Paris stopped a couple of steps behind him and wondered what in the world he thought he was doing.
Am I really about to try and get his attention off her and onto me?
But when he heard Isadora groan again, he had his answer. He couldn’t sit by and watch this female be tortured in front of him a second time. So with a seriously shaky hand, Paris reached out and laid a palm on Thanos’s back, and as soon as it connected, the huge male whirled around, took hold of his wrist, and had the two of them over against the wall in a flash.
As Paris’s spine connected with the leather and coin-studded surface, he let out an oomph at the impact and swore he saw stars as the wind was knocked right out of him. He blinked several times to clear his sight, and when Thanos’s familiar blue eyes finally registered, so did the fact that Paris could see his face in all its entirety for the first time.
The disfigurement was horrendous. Where once was a face so exquisite you couldn’t turn away, the remnants of a ghastly tragedy were now all that remained. From the right cheekbone down, the entire side of Thanos’s face was…well, it was missing. It was hardly a face at all. It was so deformed that it was difficult to see where his cheek, mouth, and chin had once been.
“Do not look at me,” Thanos barked, as he quickly lowered his head to the side, allowing his hair to fall down around the damaged surface.
It was that move right there, that brief glimpse of vulnerability, that had Paris raising his hand up to push the long golden strands back behind Thanos’s ear. Once it was away from the grisly sight, he asked, “Why not?”
“Because I did not wish for you to see this.”
“I know,” Paris said, and cocked his head. “But it doesn’t scare me. Not with all I’ve seen lately. As strange as it sounds, you’ve become my familiar here. In whatever form it may be.”
Thanos’s eyes glittered, and all of the anger that had been vibrating off him vanished as the words As you have become mine slipped into Paris’s mind.
“Thanos?”
Isadora sounded timid as her voice met Paris’s ears, and he didn’t have to look around Thanos to know she was still seated over on the chair where Thanos had left her.
“She has been kind to me,” Paris said. “Trying to help me understand all of this. You should talk to her. She missed you immensely when you were gone, and I’m not sure if your kind actually loves one another, but she certainly feels great sadness and regret for what happened to you.”
Thanos shut his eyes, and the slash of his mouth pulled tight.
“If you can show me such mercy, knowing who I am and why I’m here,” Paris said, “then surely, you can show her some too.”
Paris could see the tense set of Thanos’s shoulders, and when he reopened his eyes, there was a heavy dose of confusion there, mixed with conviction, as he visibly relaxed.
He then released Paris and turned back to face his cousin. “I snapped Eton’s neck.” When Isadora didn’t reply, Thanos added, “You asked me what I’d done. That is your answer. It was the only way.”
“I thought Vasilios wanted him—”
“Dead. He wants him dead.”
“What? But—”
“He will be awake soon,” Thanos said. “You cannot be here when that happens.”
“But…you can’t kill him. That’s Eton. Your Ancient.”
Thanos shook his head. “He is not my Ancient. Not anymore. And as you saw for yourself, he is barely Eton either. You must go.”
“I cannot leave. Vasilios told me I had to stay with your male there, until told otherwise.”
Paris stood speechless, totally gobsmacked by what he was hearing, and then Thanos glanced over his shoulder at him.
Thanos was supposed to kill Eton? His own Ancient? How was that possible? Was it possible? And why would he be given a task that was so cruel? Why didn’t Vasilios just do it? He seemed more the type.
Paris’s eyes dropped to the vampire Thanos had laid
out on the ground, and he took in the sight of him again. Eton had blood all over him. It was on his face, in his hair, on his hands, and up his arms. Whatever he had done to cause such bloodshed had also resulted in it splattering all over his clothes. It looked as though he’d spent the day in a slaughterhouse.
“Paris will stay with me,” Thanos said, but it barely registered with Paris.
“No, you cannot do that,” Isadora said. “Haven’t you been listening? He is here to hurt you.”
That finally snapped Paris out of his shock. “I would never hurt him.”
Isadora’s eyes found him as she said, “You may not want to, but Elias says you are each designed specifically for that. There is a difference between wanting to and being unable to stop yourself.”
Thanos stepped over the figure on the floor, and said, “I will stay with him. But you need to go. Eton took that male of yours, Elias, back to where he attacked us that night.”
Oh God, Paris thought, as his head became light and he swayed on his feet. Please let Elias still be breathing. But with all that blood, it would be a miracle if he was.
Isadora clearly felt the same. “Is he…is he dead?”
Paris closed his eyes, thinking that maybe if he shut everything out around him then he wouldn’t have to listen to the response.
“No,” Thanos said, and Paris’s eyes flew open. “He still lives. And if you are able to let him close enough that your scent lingers all over him, then I am positive I can take care of myself with Paris.”
The sheer relief on Isadora’s face was evident as her shoulders relaxed and her eyes welled. “Oh, Thanos,” she murmured, and then wrapped her arms around her cousin’s neck. “Why? When you had every right to end him.”
Paris saw the way Thanos’s entire body stiffened, but when he seemed to realize she wasn’t going anywhere, he returned the embrace. “You have already lost so much in your life, Isa. I was not going to be responsible for you losing him too.”
Isadora tilted her head up and stared directly into Thanos’s eyes. “Still kind, like that of your maker. That is how I will always think of Eton. No matter what he’s become. And it is always how I think of you. Charming on the inside and out. You have kept many secrets from me, Thanos.”
“Ne. But it was for good reason.”
“I know. But remember, whatever Eton is or has become, he is still Eton. The male who made you.”
“I know. That is why it is so painful to see him in such a state. Now…you mustn’t worry about what is to happen here. Go to Elias. He was not in good shape when I left him.”
Isadora nodded, and then took Thanos’s face between her palms and stood to place her lips to his damaged cheek. “Do not ever hide from me again, Thanos Agapiou.”
“Never, mikri polemistria. Now go to your male. But be back for the assembly. Vasilios will already be vexed we have altered his arrangements.”
“As if that is anything new between you two.”
She released him, and when she stepped away, Isadora said, “Stay sweet, Paris Antoniou.”
Paris frowned at that. “I thought you said that would get me killed.”
Her eyes flicked to Thanos, and then came back to his. “It just might. But I have to believe that dying for the one you love would be a sacrifice of the most noble kind.”
And with that final haunting message, the beauty that was Isadora left the room.
“I STILL DON’T like this,” Leo said as he walked down the hall of his apartment to his bedroom. He could feel Alasdair hot on his heels, but even if he hadn’t been so completely attuned to the male, the intensity of his focus was as tangible as a hand touching him.
“I thought your kind enjoyed living together.”
Leo stopped in the middle of his bedroom and turned to the broody male who was now standing with his shoulder resting up against the doorjamb. Alasdair looked so completely “normal” in that moment that Leo couldn’t help the smile that crept across his lips.
“Is something amusing, file mou?”
“No. I was just thinking how normal you seem standing there.”
Alasdair’s brows practically hit his hairline. “I understand this isn’t what you want, Leonidas, but really, there’s no need to be insulting.”
It was unbelievable to Leo that he could feel such happiness considering all that was going on, but this was—wow. Alasdair had made a joke, and the grin he was currently flashing at Leo was fucking heart-stopping.
“Hmm…” Alasdair said, as he shoved off the doorjamb and strolled over to him. “This room, it brings back many memories for me.”
Leo licked his lips as he tracked Alasdair’s every move, and when his eyes flicked over to Leo’s bed, the memory of them in it was shoved into Leo’s consciousness.
Him flat on his back.
His linen pajama bottoms loosely tied below his navel.
And Alasdair hovering over the top of him, his fingers trailing down his abdomen.
Yeah…that was hot, Leo thought. If I conveniently forget that about two minutes after that, you tried to kill me.
Alasdair chuckled, and before Leo knew it, he was on the mattress stretched out on his back with Alasdair situated over him, one leg between his spread thighs, and his hands pinned by his head.
“Well,” Alasdair drawled, and traced his tongue along Leo’s lower lip. “All relationships have their difficulties.”
Leo laughed, and when his body vibrated, Alasdair growled and fitted himself in closer against him.
“I like this side of you,” Leo said, and thrust his hips up.
And I like all sides of you, Leonidas.
“So I can feel. But do you really think we should be—Ahh shit,” he said as Alasdair ground his hips over the top of his. Leo’s erection definitely thought they should do whatever Alasdair was suggesting.
“Shh, shut your eyes for me, Leonidas. I want to make this right.” Leo’s heart pounded at the intensity of Alasdair’s words as his sensual face hovered above, and when he whispered, “Please,” Leo felt his body tremble.
Alasdair lowered his head and drew the tip of his tongue along Leo’s temple and then said in his ear, “You have brightened my dark, dark soul, file mou. Let me give you this.”
And ever so slowly, Leo shut his eyes…
HE HEARD HIM before he saw him.
A hypnotic voice urging him to “Come closer,” and the bond that now tied them to one another had Leo’s feet moving. He ran first to the left and then the right, recognizing his surroundings immediately. Alasdair had brought them back to the bathhouses where they’d first met. The white pillars that flanked the enormous rectangular pool were now familiar due to his original dream and the memory of Alasdair in this very spot with Vasilios the night he had been turned.
Leo smiled at the perfect replica of the place Alasdair had first infiltrated his mind. He was giving them a do-over, and no matter how dangerous his Alasdair thought he was, this proved to Leo that under all those layers, he still held on to parts of his humanity. He still held on to his heart.
Leo tried to catch his breath as his body started to heat, knowing exactly what was to come next. He felt flushed and aroused, but unlike the first time this vision had been pushed into his mind, he was more than aware as to why.
A low groan left his lips, as a heavy pressure stroked along the length of his erection, and even though he knew it was Alasdair, his heart raced from the sheer sensuality of the forbidden.
Alasdair’s delicious chuckle echoed inside his head like a wicked promise, and where he’d once been terrified, Leo now found himself craving the appearance of the one who was keeping himself frustratingly hidden from sight. He was breathing in heavy pants now, the unbelievably intense sensation of being given one hell of an amazing hand job as stimulating as ever.
Ahh, Alasdair. Still teasing me, tormenting me…even now.
“Of course. Would you have it any other way?”
Leo moved his hand then, about to p
ress it against the throbbing length between his legs, and that was when he realized he was dressed in his pajama pants, and couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.
Damn vampire even put me in the clothes he wanted me in.
“Well, Vasilios’s robe didn’t seem like as much fun for me to get inside of. And personally, I like the idea of getting my hands inside these pants of yours…”
Leo couldn’t stop the ridiculous grin on his face as his head rested back against the pillar, and when Alasdair appeared from out of nowhere, just as he had that first night, Leo gasped. “I will never get used to that.”
“Glad I can still surprise you, my Leonidas.”
Leo touched his tongue to his top lip as Alasdair’s cool fingertips grazed his lower abdomen.
“Do you remember what I told you all those nights ago, file mou?”
Leo swallowed back a groan as Alasdair’s hand slipped inside the pajama bottoms, and then his eyes fell shut as a strong fist stroked up the length of his erection. Leo’s entire body shuddered, reacting from the sheer pleasure of it, and Alasdair’s lips came down to press gently against his as he asked again, “What did I tell you?”
Leo searched Alasdair’s face as his hips bucked forward, and his short, dark hair and piercing emerald eyes were so familiar that Leo knew without doubt there was so much more going on here. Way more than two souls having collided only weeks ago.
He had to have known Alasdair before in some other life, right? Because surely this amount of familiarity came from more than weeks, didn’t it?
It came from years.
Lifetimes.
It came from centuries.
“Leonidas…?” Alasdair breathed against his lips. “Do you remember what I said?”
“Yes. You told me that what happens in here also happens out there.”